


Ego nocebit

by heckasketchy



Category: Carmilla - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, I'm Sorry, I'm still sorry though, Olden Times, i'm a slut for the novella so that's what this is based off of, it's worth it but only slightly, mentions of sex but is it really???, the library is there though so that's cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckasketchy/pseuds/heckasketchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura and Carmilla in a library. Based off the novella, but imagine the characters from the webseries. It's a lot more fun that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ego nocebit

We ventured about the east wing of the schloss, our hands grazing one another as they swung. Carmilla's eyes, though usually a dim brown adorned with disinterest, shined with a frightening curiosity.

  
"How well do you know your schloss, my dear Laura?"

  
"How well? I've lived here most my entire life, darling."

  
"That's certainly no gauge. Have you not lived on this earth your entire life? Do you know every canyon that's scars a plain, every mountain that breaks the sky? Certainly not. So I ask again: How well do you know your schloss?"

  
Our hands met once again but at this passing, my smallest finger was taken by Carmilla's index.

  
"Fairly well, I believe, then. Though I suppose there are some things that escape my knowledge. The schloss is fairly large."

  
"Do you not know where we venture, then?"

  
"Do you not wish for adventure, dear Carmilla? If I, by your words, do not know every crevice of this home, how I would love to experience it first with you!"

  
A separate spark illuminated the woman's eyes, one accompanied by a broken mouth and blooming smile. It fell in a moment.

  
"Your intrigue about your home is surprising." Carmilla still did not release my hand. If any change were present, in fact, it was the tightening of her digit about mine.  
We walked on until we came upon a tall, outstanding wood door adorned with ivy and an eagle's head. It sang at us as curiosity overtook us, forcing us to open the door and enter a great and dusted library. With a cavernous ceiling and four spiraling staircases, it was wondrous that I'd never known of the room previously.

  
"A place unbeknownst to you?" my darling whispered, a breath from the shell of my ear.

  
I was sure of Carmilla's sly yet still frightened look before I set my gaze upon her narrowed eyes. A murmur of exclamation escaped my lips as I led her about the room, investigating the nicked shelves and books older than the sunrise. Curious, I ran my finger along the texts, and a quick glance to my partner showed that she too had a newly garnered interest. The fog that clouded her eyes then was a queer one, like she’had been reunited with old friends.

  
"Certainly my dear reads often?" My words broke her peculiar reverie and her eyes met mine with the laziness I typically expected of the woman.

  
"I do. And yourself?"

  
"Father wouldn't have it any other way. 'Twas mainly poems and articles; trifles, I regretfully admit." I tried a smile, but it appeared as a grimace upon my lips.

  
"I digress. Any literature strengthens one's knowledge, their literary merit, even the smallest of such. A shame, however, that such a curious mind be binded to poems and gossip."

  
I gestured about me wildly, a wicked smile stretching my face.

  
"Had I known of such a treasury, I would not have let such an act take place! Beneath my own nose no less!"

  
So we ambled among the shelves, our conjoined hands keeping her from straying too far from me and our only grapple to a world outside the one manifested by the library. Books were stacked miles upon miles high where slotted windows gave way to the poison moonlight and translucent clouds. Shelves leaned to and fro and yet still seemed to be more affected by gravity than we. Every step we took let loose a turret of dust as grime and, as I took the age into my lungs, I wondered, for not the first time, of the true age of my and my father's schloss.

  
I speak of the library, but not of the books themselves, you must have realized. This is a cause of the simple fact that I did not understand any of their titles. Some names were vaguely decipherable, English or French letters like glass on the rotting leather, but they were few and far between and most times, if not always, accompanied by letters of an origin unknown to me. As for my ward, she seemed to recognize each letter, eyes traveling across like waves of recognition, but none enticing her to the point of being touched.

  
"How often do you read, Carmilla?"

  
"Often enough, I'd suppose."

  
"How many languages have you read?"

  
"A few."

  
I did not believe her. Perhaps it were because of slender brows rising slightly and her secretive smile - the one she used for whispers of affection during moonlit nights such as the one encasing us then- or perhaps it were only the slight jolt I received from her fingers when I asked.

  
"How does such a woman go about learning a few languages, then?"

"How does such a woman go about interrogating me in such a way?"

There was no question in her tone, but rather a terse and sure warning. My hand clenched against hers before releasing it. I turned away from her.

  
"I beg of my love's forgiveness." A stone of guilt unnecessary built itself within my chest, taking my breath into its shame.

  
I avoided her eyes even when she attempted a reconnection.

  
"There is just such an age to you. An age I cannot comprehend. You have said multiple times that your years are the same as mine. A worm settles deep into my breast. It is calling you a..." The guilt within me gave me pause. "It says you are a liar." I meet her eyes with a shamed hesitance. "I want nothing more than to trust every word that is carried past your lips. But I still cannot."

  
"May I ask why you cannot?"

  
Her breath came over my shoulder in a second, her lips close to my neck. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that her feigned reason was to inspect the forest through the window.

Her eyes were not on me, but were all I felt.

  
Along with the swell of her breasts on my back.

  
"Have you ever met a dog astray?"

  
Carmilla let a small smile escape.

  
"Say I have. Do you compare me to a stray dog?"

  
"I have only this to say: that stray dog approaches one that has something to better it. One that has food, shelter; such is the way of the wild. But the one whom the dog approaches, they know the dangers of it, yet they still let it come. My only question is why? If one knows that this beast is capable of murder, why do they take it in? It must be this: that the appearance of such a creature, that a pitiable and ugly thing would be the harbinger of sympathy, and cause the onlooker to overlook the anxiety they feel in their chests and take the mange in." I, yet again, took in the age of the library in a breath and nuzzled the skin I found at her neck. "That is the ache upon my breast, my dear Carmilla."

  
She does not quell this feeling, but rather wraps her arms about my waist.

  
"Do you pity me, my love? Is that what you feel?"

  
"I do not know. I felt a deep excitement when I first saw you, you know this. I am a lonely child. The servants had to fight to keep me away from you. Now, that excitement has evolved into something more riveting and brings quakes to my very soul. I feel such a weight when I am not around you, when my skin is away from yours and when your eyes meet mine, the weight is lifted. How calm you make me, like a trance!"

  
"Yet you still compare me to mange, my dear."

  
"A beautiful mange that graces my eyes."

  
"What a coquette you are! A double-edged blade you wound me with."

  
"This is also why I cannot trust you, however. Your wiles subdue my will."

  
Fingers detached themselves from my waist with a lethargy named by my ward only to come press against my jaw and turn my face to hers. Hooded eyes stared back at mine in the glass moonlight.

  
"Mine are the wills subdued, sweet Laura."

  
Lips pressed against mine before they traced my jaw to my neck, where they stayed.

  
Such an anxiety that filled my heart!

  
Sweet affections were whispered that night, as we each did not depart from one another, but rather stayed in that library in which time had no hold. We rested - such a tumultuous rest in which no sleep was to be had - on a chaise placed not too far from the entrance.

  
It should be noted that the oak door was shut, which I had no collection of either of us doing.

  
The next morning was not beheld with a tense apprehension, but instead a steady calm in which I understood every scornful whisper of love Carmilla had bestowed upon me previous to that night.


End file.
